Brothers
by AyamiAras
Summary: What does "brothers" mean exactly?  Pairs  not all in a romantic way : America/England, Australia/New Zealand, France/Italy, Switzerland/Lichtenstein, Belarus/Russia, Germany/Prussia, China/Japan, Netherlands/Beligum, S. Italy/N. Italy, Germany/Italy


**Brothers**

Pairs not all in a romantic way): America/England, Australia/New Zealand, France/Italy, Switzerland/Lichtenstein, Belarus/Russia, Germany/Prussia, China/Japan, Netherlands/Beligum, S. Italy/N. Italy, Germany/Italy

Rating: T for Romano's mouth.

A/N: For the other languages I used in the story, I used Google translate. I'm sure there are some mistakes, so if you see any please feel free to let me know and I'll fix it.

Edit: Thank you to See The Light for correcting my Chinese (and embarrassingly enough my spelling of Liechtenstein).

* * *

><p>"America, my <em>brother<em>," England pleaded from across the battlefield.

"Don't call me that!" America shouted back angrily. "After everything you did to me! Did you even really care about me or were you just after the gold and resources that I have? I have to admit that you really had me fooled for the longest time! I actually thought that we were _brothers_. I'm so glad that I have finally opened my eyes to the truth. We're not brothers. We never were!"

The young man standing before England, although it hurt both to admit, was right. They weren't brothers. When England first found the little newborn nation, he had to fight to gain the right to call himself America's "older brother." That's not how brothers are normally gained, but when you yourself aren't exactly normal you don't really have to do things by the book.

Few nations had any actual parents and for those that did, the older generation was already gone. Hardly any country had an actual blood related sibling. Each and every one of them was alone. No parents, no siblings, no children, no family. This existence obviously becomes very lonely and to deal with that, the countries become closer to one another, hoping to become more than just friends. Relationships are formed and "brothers" are gained. Suddenly the world isn't as lonely of a place anymore.

.

"Hey bro! How about a quick game of rugby before the sun goes down?" New Zealand tossed the ball into the air and Australia caught it easily.

Looking the ball over, then glancing at the hot sun, the Aussie grinned, "You're on." With that, the game was put into motion. The two brothers played toe to toe, neither of them letting the other keep the ball for long. Sweat started to appear on their brows and glistened in the fleeting light. Finally, the sun set completely, but the game didn't stop. The two nations continued to play well into twilight and didn't stop until they collapsed under a starry sky.

Panting heavily, Australia asked between breaths, "What's the score?"

Equally out of breath, New Zealand managed to laugh, "I lost track a while back actually."

"So who won?" the first nation asked, amusement coloring his voice.

The other smiled and shrugged his shoulders, "Probably me."

"What? No way, bro! I was obviously the winner this time!" Australia shouted back, but couldn't keep from laughing as well.

When it came to rugby, these two had a strong rivalry. When it came to a lot of things they had a strong rivalry which could only be described as "sibling" rivalry. To have a brother to compete against made each of them put more effort and care into everything they did. Also, a friendly game can suddenly mean so much more. Besides, they did look a little alike and they lived close together. They were about the same age too, not to mention they shared many of the same interests. Why not be brothers?

As Australia gazed up at the vast starry sky, he heard the breathing of his brother beside him and he didn't feel as lonely as he had before. He was sure that New Zealand felt the same way too.

.

On the other side of the world, another pair of brothers was socializing. "Fratello maggiore, France, I need your advice." A timid Italian nation was frowning, his forehead creasing.

"Come now, Italy, tell me all about your worries. What are des frères ainé for?" France pat the seat next to his own, inviting the younger nation to join him on the couch.

Italy took the offer and sat down as he started to explain how he had had a really scary dream recently and how it was bothering him a lot. The older brother kindly listened and then began to dispense advice, using his knowledge and experience as the older brother to help and guide the younger. True, the advice from France wasn't always safe, but he was still a good older brother and treated his younger relative with kindness and just enough teasing fit for siblings.

They weren't really related and didn't even look that much alike. The most the two nations could say was that they lived near to each other, but the same could be said about the rest of Europe. Of course, not everyone in Europe wished to be related to everyone else. The bond arose simply because there was need for one. The younger of the two needed to confide in someone else and ask advice while the older felt a protective instinct to take the little one under his wing. They felt close to each other in a platonic way and (despite France being the nation of love and the so called "pervert" of the world) it was nice to have such a connection with someone else.

"Thank you so much, Fratello maggiore, France!" Italy smiled brightly and hugged the other.

France returned the smile affectionately and hugged back, "Any time, mon frère mignon."

.

Most relationships are stable and the family love is mutual.

"Großen bruder?" A shy voice called out to get the attention of the blond.

"Hm? What is it, Liechtenstein?" Switzerland spared a look at his little sister, his hands still working on cleaning a disassembled shot gun.

Liechtenstein blushed and twiddled her fingers, "Umm, I was just wondering if maybe you'd like to go on a picnic with me." Then she suddenly rushed, "But I understand if you're too busy!"

"Sure," Switzerland answered easily enough, setting down the weapon. He wiped his hands on a cloth as he walked over to the younger sibling.

Blue eyes lit up at the good news, "Great!" Liechtenstein smiled and produced a picnic basket from behind her back. It wasn't long before the pair was sitting outside on a grassy hill and enjoying not just the sandwiches and the lovely weather, but each other's company as well.

.

Other relationships are more instable and confusing.

"вялікі брат?" A strong voice called out as a very pretty nation roamed the halls of her brother's home. "вялікі брат, where are you?" Belarus searched every room for her older sibling with no luck. Suddenly she spotted a small nation peek out nervously from behind a door. "You there!" The little nation quickly shut the door in fear, but of course a door was no match for Belarus and soon it was off its hinges. "Tell me where мой брат is."

Poor Latvia was stuck between a rock and a hard place. If he didn't tell Belarus where Russia was, she would kill him. If he did, Russia would kill him. He cried out in terror wishing he hadn't opened the door to peek out of his hiding spot (which was a hall closet).

Belarus quickly grew annoyed with the blubbering nation and her face grew dark, "I asked you where мой брат is!"

Fear clutched Latvia's heart and he blurted out, "He's in the study!"

Belarus was gone in a heartbeat.

Approaching the study, Belarus continued to call out, "вялікі брат. вялікі брат. вялікі брат!" She grabbed at the handle to the door to the study and found that it was locked. Of course. "вялікі брат, I know you're in there. Please let me in." She pressed her ear to the door and could hear her brother moving about and whimpering from inside. "вялікі брат!" She said, louder this time.

Finally a reply from inside the room came, "Go away!"

"вялікі брат, you sound troubled. Just let me in and I can help you."

"No!" was the response.

"вялікі брат, you will marry me eventually, so why make this harder on yourself than it already is? Just let me in and marry me already. вялікі брат!" Belarus yanked at the door, but this one was sturdier than the closet door had been. "вялікі брат!" She pounded her fists against the door and started clawing at it, her fingernails leaving marks. "вялікі брат!" She punched the door once, twice, three times. Finally a hole appeared in the middle of the door and a thin arm snaked in to unlock the door. It swung open slowly and Belarus finally found her brother cowering in a corner. "вялікі брат! There you are! Isn't this great! We can be together now and forever. I'll never leave your side again." Belarus swooped in and hugged her brother tightly so as to never let him escape from her again.

"Belarus! No! Please!" Russia called out, squirming under his little sister's tight embrace.

Having siblings is great, but for some the concept of "siblings" seems to be complicated and perhaps not fully understood. Whatever their definition of sibling may be, having someone you can call big brother helps to ease the loneliness of living in this world.

.

Sometimes brothers bicker.

"Prussia! Could you just shut up for one minute and listen to me?" Germany was shouting, annoyed at the mess left in the kitchen.

"You can't tell me what to do, _kleinen_ Bruder!" Prussia taunted, using his age and authority he had as an 'older brother' to his advantage.

"You might be older, but you act like the kleinen Bruder! My God! Why can't you just clean up after yourself?"

"Because you do such a good job cleaning that I thought I'd let you do it, West. Besides, I don't have time to clean up today and I don't have time to argue with you. I've got a hot date today! Gotta run!" With that, Prussia jogged out of the house and away from his fuming little brother. A smirk was plastered on the nation's face and his unique laughter floated to the ears of his little brother.

It's normal for brothers to bicker. That happens with anyone who is exceptionally close. Although they fight sometimes and may not always agree, they still have the fabricated bond of "brothers" to keep them together. Despite everything they still love each other; that's why they put up with each other's short comings and annoying habits.

.

Sometimes bickering goes a little too far, even for brothers. Sometimes brothers don't wish to be brothers anymore.

"I am not your 弟. My language and my culture are my own, thank you." Japan stated it simply enough, but there was a hidden force behind his words that his older brother was able to pick up.

"Come on, 弟…Japan. I don't understand why you are so sensitive, aru. You should be glad to be related to me." China crossed his arms, a little hurt at the younger nation's words.

"But I am not related to you." Japan said curtly.

"Japan," China whined a bit, "Come on. Just admit it, aru. You use a lot of the same kanji as me and even your hirigana looks awfully similar to my-" but he was cut off by Japan.

"Do not say another word. My language came from my own people and developed with no help from you. That is all." Cutting off the conversation, Japan bowed respectfully to his elder and then turned his back and walked away.

"Why are you so sensitive about this? Did I do something wrong, 弟弟?" China murmured to himself as he watched the other go.

.

Sometimes, brothers don't wish to be brothers because they wish to be something more.

Years had passed since the revolutionary war and America and England had not said a single word to each other aside from business so it was unexpected when America appeared at England's doorstep uninvited and out of the blue.

"A-America!" England stuttered, unsure of what to make of this sudden visit.

America looked uncomfortable and shifted from foot to foot. He hesitated and finally asked, "Can I come in, England?"

Of course England let his little brother in and made him a cup of tea, which America didn't touch. "So, what's this about? What brings you here all of a sudden?" England asked, feeling uneasy and unsure of himself.

"You remember…" America began after a long silence, "The revolution?"

In the world there had been many revolutions, but of course England knew exactly which one America was talking about, but he didn't say a word. His heart wrenched and he frowned, but he didn't say a word.

"The war?" America offered, trying to jog the other's memory.

"I know, I know. I remember, you git." England snapped. Even after all these years, the American Revolutionary War was still a sore spot for him and he couldn't help but get depressed every July.

"Do you remember what I said?" America paused, careful that he was wording everything right. "About being brothers with you?"

England's heart skipped a beat. What was America getting at? Did he regret the Revolution? Was he here to ask to be forgiven? Did America want to be brothers again? No, no. England tried not to allow himself to hope too much. "That we weren't brothers anymore?" England answered bitterly.

America winced at his own words being thrown back at him. "I…" He began, but then he stopped and didn't continue until England prompted him to continue. "I still don't want to be your brother," America finally said. His head and eyes were pointed down. He dared not to look at England's face. Not yet.

Meanwhile, England was filled with hurt and rage. Is this really the reason America came all the way out here? To remind him that they weren't brothers? Angrily, he opened his mouth and said, "Well fine. I don't want to be brothers with an arrogant, selfish…" but he was suddenly cut off.

America's hand was resting upon England's and it felt warm and soft. England blinked at it in confusion and then looked up at the nation it belonged to. America had finally lifted his head and was looking straight into England's green eyes. The look upon his face was a strange mixture of sorrow, pleading, hope, and something else.

Finally, America spoke again, "I don't want to be brothers with you because," a small pause. America swallowed his nerves and finished, "because I want to be something more than brothers." The hopeful look in his eyes grew and suddenly England recognized that last emotion in the young nation's face. "England, I love you."

.

Throughout history, the countries gain and lose siblings. Even if it is all only a game of make-believe, the emotions and feelings are real. When a nation proudly shows off his new little brother to the world there isn't any less pride or joy than when a human does it. When a nation loses a brother because of a stupid fight or because of a war the pain they feel isn't diminished by saying "Well, it was only pretend." Brothers are brothers no matter what, but sometimes these brothers can become something more.

.

"Grote broer," Belgium had that cat-like grin she always had plastered on her face. Her hair was held with a red ribbon and she wore a pale blue dress which was currently covered with a long white apron. She held a bowl of batter in the crook of one arm and a whisk in the other. "Good morning." She smiled.

The Netherlands entered the kitchen and nodded at his sister. Sniffing the air, he could tell right away that Belgium was making waffles.

"They'll be done soon," Belgium promised and started to turn around to focus back on the waffle iron. Just as she set the bowl and whisk down a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her waist and turned her back around. Facing the Netherlands who was suddenly very close, Belgium blushed softly, but didn't protest.

The Netherlands's fierce expression softened at the sight of his lovely sister. She smelled of waffles and even had a bit of the batter clinging to her cheek. How it got there, the Netherlands would never know, nor care to know. He simply brought their faces closer together and licked the mix off her cheek. He lingered for just a moment and then pulled away, "Mm. Tastes good."

Belgium blushed brightly and giggled softly. A hand was lifted to her cheek where the batter had been just a moment before. Then she playfully dipped her finger into the batter and quickly dabbed the Netherlands's cheek with waffle mix.

A smile played across the brother's lips for just a moment before he too dipped a finger into the batter and got Belgium's nose.

The female nation blinked and went cross eyed for a moment, as her green eyes focused on the batter on her nose. Then she laughed and continued the food fight with the Netherlands playing along. This was a side of the Netherlands that no one else ever really saw. Even his sister hadn't realized that there was a playful side to her brother until they started dating. Sometimes a country didn't need a sibling; what they needed was something more.

.

Sometimes brothers will only ever be just brothers.

"Romanoooo," The younger Italian brother wined from behind a locked bedroom door. "Let me out."

"No, Veneziano!" The elder Italian brother said firmly as he placed the key to the room in his shirt pocket. "I'm not going to let you out because if I do you'll just run off to be with that German bastard!"

"I don't understand, Romano. Why don't you like Germany?" The other's voice called from the other side of the door.

"It's because he's not good enough for you! That's why! He's too big and he'll only hurt you and he stinks and all he eats are potatoes. He's dragged us both into wars we can't win and he owns dogs! You say he's your friend but he doesn't even like you that much. He doesn't want anything to do with you, but you keep bugging him. One day he's going to really hurt you and then what will you do? You'll just come crying back to me and then I'll have to deal with your crying and wining all day long and I have better things to do than tell you 'I told you so.' Also…" The list of reasons why Romano didn't like his little brother spending so much time with Germany went on and on and every time Veneziano asked, Romano seemed to be able to come up with more reasons, some more convincing than others.

"But fratello…" Veneziano pleaded. He didn't know what he could say to get Romano to change his mind and really there wasn't anything he could say. Even if Veneziano could come up with a rebuttal for each and every reason Romano gave, it wouldn't do a thing because Romano never gave the actual reason he hated Germany so much.

"Just no, Veneziano. Please, just stay in your room and I'll make you some pasta, okay?" His voice was less harsh now and almost sounded pleading. Romano waited until he got an answer from the room his brother was locked in.

"Okay," Veneziano said softly, giving in.

Romano sighed and then left his brother to go down into the kitchen and make some pasta like he had promised. All the while he muttered to himself, "Stupid German…Why do you like him so much, Veneziano? Why? What can that bastard give you that I can't? Huh? Damn it all." The real reason Romano was always so angry whenever his brother even mentioned Germany was because Romano was jealous. He would never admit it in a thousand years, but he was.

The Italian brothers were the most brotherly and shared the same country, a grandfather and similar looks. It was amazing that they weren't actually related, but that didn't matter. They had adopted each other as their brother and to do anything now would be incestuous, or so Romano was convinced. Not only that, but his brother loved him only as a brother, nothing more. To confess his feelings would only drive Veneziano further away from him. Then there was that God damned German that only made matters worse. Veneziano was in love with Germany, not Romano and it drove the older brother mad.

Finishing the pasta, Romano scooped the noodles onto a plate, added the sauce, and brought it up to his waiting brother. He unlocked and opened the door, "Fratello, I've brought you pasta, just like I promised. Vene…" Romano stopped dead in his tracks and the plate in his hand crashed to the floor. He stared, mouth agape at the empty room, the open window, and the classic bed sheets rope blowing gently in the breeze. "DAMN IT! VENEZIANO!" Romano screamed and ran to the window, but his brother was long gone, off to Germany. "Damn it!" Romano's rage gave way to anguish and he fell to his knees and leaned against the window sill, beating his fist against the wall.

Some brothers were fated to remain only brothers.

.

"England, I love you." America waited nervously for an answer from his former brother, and his bright blue eyes never left the other's dark green ones.

England didn't know what to say and was frozen in shock. Finally the realization seemed to dawn on him and his cheeks warmed up quickly. Embarrassed, England ripped his hand away from the American's and he turned his whole body away, breaking eye contact. He cleared his throat several times and tried to get comfortable in his seat.

"Well?" America prodded.

England cast a glance back at the American, eyes still hopeful, but fear coloring the blue orbs as well. He suddenly felt guilty along with feeling nervous and awkward and embarrassed and unsure of himself and so many other unidentifiable emotions. Finally, England's mouth opened and words started flowing out of it, "What? You think that you can just come back here after all of these years and say…say something like that and just…just…what were you even expecting to happen?"

America's face fell slightly at the harshness of England's words, but he remained hopeful and he replied, "Well, I guess I was hoping that we could get together. You know, like start dating…become lovers?"

A blush once again taking over England's face, the older nation turned his head away to hide it. He cleared his throat once again and America told him to drink some tea to which England responded with, "I'm fine you imbecile!" There was a short pause and then England spoke again, still with a harsh tone of voice, "I…I don't understand. You can't love me. You hated me. You started that whole bloody war and you made it perfectly clear that you didn't want to be with me anymore…" he trailed off, still avoiding eye contact.

The younger nation let the silence sit for a while before answering. "England, I've always loved you," he started, "I never stopped loving you, but I knew that you didn't love me the way that I loved you. I had to get you to stop seeing me as just a little brother. I guess…the Revolutionary War wasn't the best way to go about changing the way you see me, huh?" He gave a stupid lopsided grin.

England just stared at the other country. "Are you really that stupid?" He finally asked to which America laughed. "You…that…the war…was so that I…" England was flabbergasted.

Another embarrassed chuckle escaped the American's lips, "Yeah…something like that. I couldn't be ruled by you in order to romance you. I had to be your equal."

"Y-you could have just…said so," England said lamely, crossing his arms.

"I'm sorry." America apologized sincerely. "I…I realize now that it was a stupid move. I only succeeded in hurting us both. Do you think you could forgive me?" He flashed a dazzling and hopeful smile to which England had no chance against.

"I…forgive you, America." England said, a smile finding its way to the Brit's lips.

"Do you love me?" America pushed. "Can we be together?"

England hesitated a moment before finally smiling and out of his mouth came a single word, "Yes."

.

When born into a lonely world, everyone needs someone else. Whether that someone else is a brother, a sister, or a lover doesn't always matter as long as there is someone else there. This is a sentiment shared across the world and across cultures, for in every language there is a word for brother and in every heart there is room for one. Cherish your brother and never take him for granted and if you do not have a brother, don't let that stop you.

"There's no other love like the love for a brother. There's no other love like the love from a brother." -Terri Guillemets


End file.
